One Starry Night
by reallynonamesleft
Summary: Satine and Christian escaped the Moulin Rouge in 1909. After attempting to live in London, they decide the only safe place is America, the Land of Opportunity. Meeting fellow first-class passenger Rose and her lover, Jack, the couples fate will be decided on the cold night of April 15th, 1912.
1. When We First Laid Eyes

**The Moulin Rouge occurred in 1909.**

* * *

Christian and I got out of the buggy that had brought us from our hotel. We had escaped the Moulin Rouge three years ago, 1909. Christian hid me away at a doctors while I recovered from the opening nights terrifying events, he couldn't tell anyone from the Rouge where we were, or the Duke would have him killed, since he now ran the place. Christian so badly wanted to stay in Paris, he really believed in freedom, beauty, truth, and love. Not that I didn't, but after working at the Rouge for so long, I realized sometimes you had to deal with the hand you were dealt.

Christian realized I was different after the tuberculosis, that dreadful disease really made me put things in perspective. Sure, I could spend the rest of my life at the Moulin Rouge as a courtesan, but where would that get Christian? Even if I was the "Sparkling Diamond", my months long absence had led to my replacement by none other than Nini. Not to mention that even if I returned, I'd be the Duke's forced girlfriend, and Christian would have to be in constant hiding. We needed something outside of it, something we could make on our own, that no one could take away from us. So in 1910 we eloped and went to London to tell Christians family. They were nice enough, but one of the Dukes men had followed us there from the Moulin Rouge. Once again spoiling our lives, we decided the best place to go was America, where we could start all over.

"Christian, it's so, large!" I exclaimed, hopping out of the buggy, not seeing the drivers courteous hand until it was too late. I had definitely calmed down since we first met, but I still had some flair, which was obvious in my bright red dress. It fit the times with the layered look and high waist, but I always managed to stick out in a crowd. It still felt strange to not be in such extravagant wealth, but that was why we were on the Titanic!

"But thank you," I told the driver as he handed us our luggage. He nodded his head and got back into his buggy. "Where to now Christian? I've never been on a ship like this before!"

"We're first class, so we won't have to get inspected for lice or any disease," he said, and my smile faded a bit, remembering the tuberculosis that had nearly killed me. "It's alright," he said, touching my arms gently, "you haven't relapsed or infected anyone else, there's no need to worry." He gave me a kiss on the cheek, and I felt reassured. He asked a White Star Line employee to make sure our trunks were brought to B50 and we boarded the ship. Christians parents had been generous, buying us both first-class tickets on the Titanic. But once we were ashore, they couldn't help us anymore, as they did not want the Duke to be able to trace anything to us.

As I stepped onto the gangway, I grabbed the railing like a lifeline. It was as if I could feel every small wave in the ocean through it, as well as the footsteps of those above me. It was a group of four, three women and a man. One of the women was obviously a maid, carrying several boxes and a coat. The other two were clearly first-class like myself, one in a large purple hat.

"Welcome to the Titanic, will you be requiring anything?" an employee asked me kindly.

"No, wait yes actually, where is room B-50?" I asked and the man smiled.

"Allow me to show you."


	2. Brunch With Engineers

Satine was seasick. How she was on this ship was beyond me, it was so large and sturdy. But she swore up and down she could feel every wave we hit, so when I told her I wanted to talk to Bruce Ismay and Thomas Andrews, I was met with fierce opposition.

"I'm not going!" she snapped, still lying in bed. "The last thing I want to hear while I'm eating is more about _ships_!"

"Come on Satine!" I pleaded, "we're on the Ship of Dreams, and they made it all possible! Wouldn't you want to brag about it? How many times have you told me about the number that got you the nickname, 'Sparkling Diamond'?" She sighed.

"I guess it couldn't be too terrible," she conceded, and I punched the air in victory.

* * *

Sitting at a table with Cal and my mother made me want to puke as much as the frail girl sitting across from me. Maybe not frail, but she was definitely thin and had a slight green tint to her skin. Ismay was so full of himself, always going on about the Titanic. Of course, he couldn't make it dominate the conversation since Southampton, we'd all be tired of the same routine by Cherbourg, so he'd just drop little bits in the conversation as if we didn't already know. But now that we were in full attendance, he emptied his heart and soul.

"Well I may have..." something or other, I don't really care. Bored, I light a cigarette. It still irritates me, but if the men can do it, so can I. Mother glares at me.

"You know I don't like that," she says, always telling me what I can and cannot do. I blow some smoke in her face, but while I'm distracted, Cal snuffs out my cigarette. A waiter comes to take our order, briefly breaking the tension.

"We'll both have the lamb, rare with a little mint sauce. You like that right sweet pea?" Cal asked condescendingly. I gave him a big smile, sarcastic of course.

The man who sits next to the girl across from me is asking Mr. Ismay something, and the conversation is dragging. They're dissecting the name of the ship, the other man is just in love with words, but it's _so boring_. Why not talk about something I like for once?

"Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay? His works on the male preoccupation of size may be of particular interest to you," I say coolly, then remove myself from the table. Mr. Ismay is saying something to those at the table, but so are Cal and Margaret Brown.

I stand at the railing, feeling the wind in my face. I feel the slightest bit free, but someone stands next to me.

"You alright in there?" the unassuming, yet beautiful girl from the table asks weakly, her seasickness obvious.

"Just a bit stuffed up," is all I say, wanting to be alone. I noticed she and her partner aren't dressed up as much as the others, although she carries herself as if she was one of us.

"The same, I've never sailed before, and I don't think I like it much," she says weakly, a smile on he face.

"I'm sorry, I'm being rude, what's your name?" I ask, wanting to not be completely rude.

"Satine Abbot," she says kindly.

"Satine is French right?" I ask, knowing French and wanting to make some semblance of conversation.

"Yes, my maiden name is Bellamy, but I married an Englishmen," she says, a smile sneaking onto her face.

"The man questioning Ismay over the name of the ship?"

"Oh yes, he's a writer, always so interested in names," Satine laughs, some color returning to her face.

"Rose!" Cal cuts in, walking over to us sharply. He grabs my arm, and starts chiding me like a child.

"Is something wrong?" Satine asks.

"Mind your own business," Cal says crudely, and Satine scoffs. I break away while he is distracted, and head down the deck.

* * *

Roses fiance is such a jackass. I've seen men like him at the Moulin Rouge, just looking for a woman they can control. I'm surprised her mother allowed such an engagement, but there's a certain fear in her eye, like that of a caged animal behind those icy blues.

"What happens between me and my fiance is not of any interest to you, I suggest you don't interfere again," Cal said crisply, before following his fiance.


	3. Scuffle On The Deck

**I'm gonna gloss over the movie scenes so I don't bore you to death, since you've probably seen the movie if you're reading this.**

* * *

**JACKS POV**

I was laying on the bench, casually smoking a cigarette, looking up at the stars, when I heard the sound of panicked heels hitting the deck, and intense panting close behind. I got up to follow the noise, to make sure the woman was alright. The noises faded out, and I figured she had reached the stern. Who I saw was the young woman I had seen earlier today, not the small one, but the one who looked trapped. Then I realized what was truly wrong with the picture, the girl was on the other side of the railing.

We have a push and pull exchange over her situation, and I somehow manage to get her to take my hand. I was pulling her back over, when she slipped.

**CHRISTIANS POV**

I was out for a walk, Satine was fast asleep, when I stumbled upon the two at the stern. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but then I realized he was helping her over the railing, to our side. I ran over to help, and just in time, she slipped and fell. The girl was screaming her head off, understandably so. I grabbed her other arm, and helped pull her over.

We all sort of fell over with the girl, who I now recognized from the lunch from before. Suddenly, sailors were tearing us apart, and the Master at Arms whisked the girl to the other side of the deck. Her fiance showed up and started swearing at the other man and I, when he gave me an odd look.

"Do I know you?" he asked snidely. I gave him the same blank look I gave the Duke when he asked about Satine.

"Cal wait!" Rose protested, grabbing his arm. "I was looking over the edge to see the uh, uh, propellers, and I slipped." A look of disbelief crossed Cal's face, but the Master at Arms took her at her word, seeing as she was the victim, and they took off the handcuffs. Cal took Roses arm and was beginning to walk off when the Master at Arms cleared his throat.

"Perhaps a little something for the boy," he suggested.

"Lovejoy, a twenty should do it."

"Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?" Rose cut in, giving him a long look. Cal muttered something I couldn't understand, but it was in such a strange voice I had to choke back a laugh.

"Perhaps you can join us for dinner tomorrow, regale us with your heroic tale," Cal remarked, then went off with Lovejoy. Rose cast another look at Jack, then followed.

"That was eventful," I say, and Jack chuckles.

"First time that's ever happened to me, I'm Jack Dawson by the way," he says, offering his hand.

"Christian Abbot," I say, shaking his hand back. "Excited for your first dinner with the richest people in the world?" I ask and he shrugs.

"People are people, maybe not all of them have their heads up their asses," he jokes.

"You know, I actually heard one of them is called 'Jackass' in the papers," I tell him, and I'm met with the same noncommittal shrug.

"I'm used to dealing with jackasses, money or no money. Anyway, what brings you to the stern at such an odd hour?"

"My wife is down in the cabin, seasick," I grimace, and Jack nods knowingly. "I actually ought to be getting back now, who knows how long we were held up by that guys goons." I shudder at the thought of an angry, seasick Satine.

"Want me to walk you down in case we get hassled again?" he jokes, and I agree, who knows if Satine will let me out of sight tomorrow.

"So what brings you to the Titanic?" I ask, trying to keep the conversation moving, Jack is so lost in the surroundings of the first-class.

"You're in the first-class and weren't attending dinner?" Jack asks incredulously, "don't you people live for that sort of stuff?"

"With or without money, we're still people," I remind him. Once people find out you have money, they're either incredibly smarmy or hostile because of it. "But quite a few have their heads up their asses," I agree, and he nods. "But what brings you to Titanic?"

"Just setting sail for America, looking to head West though. You vacationing?"

"Nah, my wife and I need a clean start," is all I say before I open the door to our cabin.

"Where were you?" Satine demands, her face red with anger.

"I went out for my walk, and I helped someone who slipped over the railing," I explain quickly, and her eyes narrow.

"Fell over the railing?" she frowns.

"I was there miss, I can tell you all that happened," Jack says from the doorway. "There was a bit of a mixup and we nearly got arrested." Satine rolls her eyes, slightly used to my getting into trouble.

"What could you do on a ship to get yourself arrested? This isn't Paris!"

"Well a young lady slipped, and when we pulled her back over the railing we all, fell on top of each other. Her screams attracted the attention of some sailors and they walked in at the wrong moment," I say and she nods, easily reading between the lines.

"Well I'm going to bed now, don't get into any trouble while I'm asleep," she says playfully, then heads off to the bedroom.

"I'll see you tomorrow evening, good night," Jack says, and I give him the same farewell.


	4. Second Times A Charm

I decided it was right to see Jack after last nights events, he was so discrete. If Cal ever discovered what I was really doing, he might finish the job for me, or worse.

I met him up on the deck in the afternoon, and we talked well into the evening. He told me about where and how he grew up and never came back. It must be so hard. Communication is excellent now with the telegraph, but that hasn't spread all across the American continent, he must never hear from his family. It's so tragic. Chippewa Falls seems like a whole world away on this huge ship. Maybe that's the way he likes it.

He's about to teach me how to 'spit like a man' when the sick woman from my botched breakfast with Cal sees us and waves, she's wearing a high-waisted, full-length grey skirt, with a white blouse and light purple sweater on top. She has her husband with her as well, the writer, also the man who saw me last night. I greet them, and Satine takes it off from there.

"I've finally decided to grow some sea legs, whether I'm ready or not," she jokes, and her husband and Jack laugh. I smile cordially, and jovially ask how she can be so sick on the sturdiest ship in the world.

"That's what I said! See, living in land-locked Paris has made you soft." She gives him a dirty look, but I'm amazed she lived there.

"You never told me you lived in Paris!" I exclaim. "I went there once a very long time ago, and wish I could go back."

"I'm afraid I never did much while I was there," Satine admits bashfully. "I'm from a small town outside of Paris, called Villeblevin. It's about an hour away by train, a day if you walk. I went to Paris and didn't like it much there, not to my tastes," she says lightly, and Jack reignites the conversation.

"Are you two going to the dinner tonight? I would like to know if I'll see more than one friendly face," Jack smiles, at me, and I blush. I know I'm engaged to Cal, but he doesn't love me, he loves my money, well, the _idea _of my money.

"If you're going to be there we're going to be there," Christian declares, and Satine smiles.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'm going to love how this turns out," Satine says deviously, and Jack laughs.

"Well, it's only one night, how bad can it go?" he responds with a shrug.

"Famous last words," I say, and he throws back his head in laughter.

"Do you mind if I have a smoke?" Christian asks, positioning himself next to the rail.

"Not at all, mind if you give me one too?" Jack asks, and he nods.

"Only if you've got a light, left mine in Cherbourg," Christian says mournfully.

"Actually, count me in for one too," I say boldly, and Jack raises his eyebrows.

Jacks eyes became alight with excitement. A first-class _woman _taking a smoke from a man from the steerage, it's practically unheard of. But if I'm going to be married to Cal, I'm going to have some fun before I'm stuck with him forever. I calmly accept the mercifully pre-rolled cigarette from Christian, stick in my mouth and he lights it.

"Do you want one, love?" he asks his lovely wife, but she shakes her head.

"You know how light-headed those make me, and the fact we're on a ship," she shudders at the thought.

I inhale and release a puff of smoke, right into Jacks face, not coughing in the slightest.

"And you're taking them like you've been smoking all your life, what would your mother say if she saw you?"

"Make her put it out," an icy cold face says behind me. I whip around, the cigarette burning out as it is suddenly whipped around in the wind. I am staring into the cold blue eyes of my mother.

* * *

The appearance of Roses mother made me jump nearly a foot in the air. She has a possy of three or four women, one of whom I recognize as Margaret Brown, a woman I met when she got on at Cherbourg. She seemed nice enough, 'new money' as Rose described her. Couldn't imagine why she would hang around the likes of Ruth. Speak of the devil, she blatantly reaches for her daughters cigarette and flicks it into the deep blue ocean.

"I came to find you before dinner dear," her frigid eyes honing in on Jack, she looked at him as though he were some sort of threat, an intruder in her home.

"Oh ladies, this is Jack Dawson, the man who saved my life last night," Rose says cordially, and recalls the somewhat amended version of last nights events. Not that I mind, I wouldn't want to be the subject of discussion over tea. Their gossip goes around the world and into the papers. If the Dukes men traced our tickets, they'd have to scour an entire continent with very few clues, with the first-class being known to travel and very restrictive as to whom is allowed access into their home. Yet if any details about Christian and I made it into their gossip circle, it would tell them what we had manufactured and what had stayed the same. Easier for them to find us, even kill us.

A bugle sounds somewhere on deck, meaning dinner will be served in an hour. Rose and her mother hurry along to change, while the rest of the women venture off to find their husband. Judging by Jacks interaction with those women, I don't think he quite understands what he's getting into.

"Jack, you do realize that what you're wearing right now won't even get you in the door?" I tell curtly.

"Doesn't matter, they're gonna know I'm not one of them anyway, I'm not related to anyone with more than fifty dollars to their name," he says nonchalantly.

"But the Bukaters and the Hockleys aren't gonna welcome that, especially since you saved one of them from certain death, they're gonna try and pass you off as an heir to some company or trust, so they don't look out of control, that's the name of the game upstairs," I explain. Christian cuts me a look. He's still stuck on the notion that everyone's the same at heart, that we'll all treat each other with decency without regards to class. Of course he will, he's a middle-class Londoner. They didn't have to worry about where their next meal would come from, but they also didn't have to go through the boring routine of posh dinner parties with the same old chatter. It's the reason I escaped to the Moulin Rouge. There when everyone was getting drunk it didn't matter who you were, you were just a face in the crowd. The poor didn't hate the rich for being on the good hand of fate, and the rich weren't hung up on Carnegie's _Wealth_.

"I can loan you a suit for the night, Satine insisted I needed two for the journey over, and it looks like she was right," Christian says hurriedly. Jack accepts, and we head down to our cabin.

* * *

Jack and Christian are in Christians room dressing, so I knock on the door and tell them I'll see them at dinner, they take longer to dress than most women I know.

I've put on the red dress Christian first sang to me in. It's a bit older than some of the newer fashions, but I know I can make it work. Dinner isn't for another ten minutes, so I meander down the hall, and come across Roses room.

"Rose, if I catch you near that boy after this dinner, I'll make sure you never leave this cabin," I can hear Ruths cutting voice through the door, subconsciously stop to listen. At the Moulin Rouge, the more you knew, the easier it was to get what you want.

"Mother, he saved my life, you can't expect me to just ignore his existence," Rose protests.

"When you so much as touch that boy, you jeopardize your marriage to Hockley, and our survival." Survival? Everything has been handed to these people on a silver platter, what could they possibly need?

"Whatever you say mother," Rose says coolly, venom in her voice. Footsteps move towards the door and I duck around a corner, feeling like a child caught listening through a lock.


End file.
